


Seymour's culinary disaster.

by Jem (letalloursingingfollowhim)



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Catherine is big sister type, F/F, Fluff, Jane can't cook, Jane is NOT mum friend, Jane is trying, She babey, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tour!Queens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21919171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letalloursingingfollowhim/pseuds/Jem
Summary: This is tour!Seymour and tour!Parr. Seeing as this Seymour is most babey, she really wants to bake something for the Queens whenever they wake up to surprise them and make them happy - does not work out as planned. In short: tour!Jane can't cook or read recipes.
Relationships: Catherine Parr/Jane Seymour
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55





	Seymour's culinary disaster.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting unedited for at least a month on my laptop's home screen. My plan was for this to be a multi-chapter fic with each chapter focusing on one of the queen's and Jane's horrendous cooking skills. But I couldn't seem to write that - so here is the only chapter i ever wrote!  
> Just another note, this is how I see TOUR Jane, not WEST END Jane.

Waking up to the sunrise half an hour before her alarm clock blared seemed to have become Jane Seymour’s ‘thing’. She couldn’t help that her body found it conventional to wake up before 7 o’clock! However, she was often able to struggle back to sleep until she heard the first stirs of Anna or Katherine – a usual occurrence for one of those two to be up the earliest. Next came Anne usually, then other three women were quite interchangeable with waking up. But it was never Jane up first because she found sleep a bit more comforting than going downstairs to see the others straight away. Nevertheless, today she just couldn’t fall back asleep.

But that was okay – she had a few ideas set in place; a plan set for the time whenever she wasn’t tired enough to fall back asleep. Her plan being that of making fruit and chocolate pancakes for whenever the next queens arose. Excited by the idea, she rose, yawning and checking her phone time. It glared 6:43 back at her, her alarms set for 7:15, then again 7:30, then again for 8 o’clock. Smiling a little to herself, Jane re-set all the alarms so they wouldn’t play mid her being a chef. 

There was a single problem though. Jane had never made pancakes before and she wasn’t very astute at reading a recipe. But oh well, she’d seen them being made before, observing carefully from Cathy Parr or the copious amounts of varied cooking shows she found some form of guilty pleasure in watching. Really, it couldn’t be too hard.

Pushing off her silky-smooth cream coloured covers, Jane got out of bed, landing on the fluffiest rug she owned. Picking up her phone, she quietly made haste downstairs so as not to wake the other girls. Silently she hoped that they had all the required pancake ingredients. Mentally, she checked them off; milk, flour, sugar, butter, chocolate, fruit, eggs. Content that they had all the ingredients, she walked into the kitchen, pulling up a “how-to” on pancakes.

Jane, not great at processing recipe instructions, decided to close off the recipe on her phone and freestyle making them. Thinking back to her previous thought about how many times she seen pancakes being made, she was almost one hundred percent sure she could easily make them! It would be a lovely treat for the girls whenever they woke up; predicating she had a bit over a half an hour, she began to gather ingredients. 

She was correct in thinking that she had all of them as she sauntered about the cupboards trying to find everything she needed. By the end of collecting everything, laid in front of her was all the mentally ticked off ingredients, two large bowls, a pan, some cutlery and a ladle to spoon the pancake batter into the pan. Forgetting to warm up the hob, Jane got stuck right into the making of the pancakes. Her face was plastered with a smile.

Ever since she had gotten with the girls, she had felt ever so slightly out of place. She had her own perceptions of how she was meant to act: she had told herself that she had to be adult and helpful and take care of people – but it hadn’t worked out so well. So now was her time to show the other queens she could be mature and helpful and make breakfast for them!

Jane began to crack the eggs into the bowl – one egg or two? Or three? Going with two because it was the middle number, Jane cracked the eggs, whisking them rapidly with a fork. How long did she mix them? Not quite sure, she stopped after they looked combined enough. Realising that already there was a bit of a mess, she sighed gently and vowed to clean it up later. Not really thinking, she poured quite an amount of flour into the bowl, still mixing. The batter was becoming quite thick and too sticky for what her perception of batter was. Time for the milk, she guessed! 

Jane began to pour the milk in, pouring it until the batter became a thin but lumpy consistency. Was it meant to be that lumpy? Jane pondered, sighing harder than before as she looked around at the mess spread across the kitchen counter and she sighed at the fact the batter just didn’t look correct. Nothing seemed like it was going correct. What was she doing that was wrong?

“Sweetie?” a tired voice came from the direction of the door, a figure stood in the yellow door frame. Catherine Parr.

“Hmm?” Jane hummed, not averting her gaze from the odd-looking mixture and the mess of flour and eggs and milk on the bench in front of her. 

Drawing closer to Jane, Catherine tilted her head a little. “Sweetheart, what were you trying to make?” Her voice was silky smooth, a comforting sound in Jane’s growing upset and frustration.

“Pancakes,” Jane stated bluntly.

“That’s a really sweet idea, love,” Catherine started, furrowing her brow as she looked around. “But the you’ve used the milk that was meant to be thrown out, one too little eggs and ah- “Catherine stopped again, taking it all in. “And quite a bit too much flour. I appreciate the thought though, Jane.” Catherine spread a smile, putting a hand on the other queen’s shoulder.

“I just wanted to do something for once. It’s always up to you or- or Anna or Anne or- “. Catherine cut her off.

“No sweetie, it’s okay. You do a lot, alright?” Catherine tried to reassure, but Jane pulled away.

“I feel…” she paused. “I feel like I should know what I’m meant to do. But I don’t. I don’t know what to say when someone needs me, whenever someone needs help. I want to know, Cathy, but I…” Jane caught herself, getting a little choked up on her words, tears threatening to spill over her eyes.

“Shh,” Catherine whispered, pulling Jane into a comforting hug. “Let’s get this cleaned up, then we can go to Tescos before the others wake up. The new twenty-four hour one opened across the road. We can go get milk and try again, yeah?”

Jane nodded, removing her head from Catherine’s shoulder. “And, can you help me read the recipe?” She asked a little apprehensively, not sure how Catherine would react to her struggles. Jane, however, noticing the soft smile, sighed in contentment. Catherine was someone who was similar to an older sister figure for the girls; someone Jane had accepted as such.

“Of course I can. I can make a simplified version as well; in case you want to make them again?”

Jane smiled again, tears only a dried trace on her cheeks now. “Thank you.” She beamed, truly meaning it.

“It’s alright sweetheart. Now, let’s get this going!” Catherine spoke, her voice still a reassuring and happy hum.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! Leave some honest reviews or a few suggestions please haha!  
> -Li.
> 
> Also I'm posting all of my Hamilton, TURN and historical work now, along side another Six fic!


End file.
